Comedian, Podcaster and Deep Thinking Extraordinaire Hari Kondabolu return to Houston with a new hour that offers much to chew on.
“One big thing is definitely the idea of ‘selling out’ and how that really doesn’t mean anything anymore,” says Kondabolu, who headlines three shows at Punchline Houston on May 30 and 31. “For me, it’s that idea of what integrity means when you have a kid. Like what is your focus? Is it this idea of ‘artistic integrity’ which is this vague notion, or is it that this kid needs to eat? I gotta work and what I would do for work at this point.”
He continues down this rich vein, touching on topics that have been recurring through his years in comedy. “Certainly, there is going to be the stuff I have historically covered about race and colonialism, there will be some stuff about my parents and aging. I think about myself aging also. Being a co-parent, I have a four and a half year old, so knowing what it is like being a four and a half year old. What it feels like to have a break up when you have a kid. That’s a lot of the big stuff.”
The Politically Re-Active podcaster differs from his contemporaries in the satirical game to a certain degree, and this hour seems to be bringing that deeper personalization to the front. In one way, he rejects the notion that the audience expects him to ‘solve’ these recurring issues through his material. He states simply: “I think they’re expecting jokes. It’s not really something that needs to be solved, and I’m not wrestling with it. It’s pretty straight forward.”
Illustrating his larger point on ‘Selling Out’, Kondabolu cites his experience working co-hosting the Netflix food competition series, Snack vs Chef which aired on the streamer in 2022. “Maybe in my 20s, I wouldn’t have done it, it’s not who I am. I talk about these things and this is what I believe in. Now it’s kinda like, I don’t care. It’s a fun show.”
“And one thing I am still trying to find a way to talk about is: selling out is an ancient concept. Like, everyone is on social media. I feel like so many people have gotten famous from the internet. And when you are doing something on the internet, you are immediately doing stuff through corporations, whether it’s Facebook, Instagram, TikTok. These are all big companies.
“Every single artist has a public presence, and that public presence means working with public companies. So before there was this idea of the indie artist and making Zines, or word of mouth – that the album gets passed around. Those days are done! So just the notion of selling out. I think there is a generation who doesn’t know what that means, because from the get-go, they’ve been trying to create content for this corporate entity without even thinking about it. Selling out is the only path! Like if I’ve heard of you, you must have sold out.”
Ironically, the comic observes, as the world teeters further towards the brink of insanity, Kondabolu is actually getting a bit lighter with his assessments of the doom. “My stuff has always been heavy, that’s always what I’ve found most interesting: racism and sexism or wealth in-disparity, and none of this stuff is new. They’ve been around since the founding of this country. So to me, I have always wrestled with that dark stuff. I have always found that the most absurd. That’s the kind of stuff that my heroes talked about. If anything, I’ve been trying to get lighter.”
Is this a natural evolution, or an unwillingness to remain stagnant? “Having a kid,” he justifies, “I try to write more accessibly. I think that’s a good thing to have a balance. The stuff that is heavier has more impact when it is surrounded by things that are lighter, and also allows the audience to get to know me outside of just someone who has beliefs. I’m a father and someone who is trying to get through their day. Dealing with mental health stuff, which is another big theme on this hour.”
As the comic enters his 40s, he appears to still be making discoveries that challenge him in stand-up. “For me, I feel like I’ve never had an issue dealing with the hard stuff. That actually comes easy to me compared to sharing myself, which usually comedians start with sharing themselves. That’s never been my strength, that’s something I have had to actively work on. Like all of a sudden, I’m peeling back layers, and there’s a vulnerability there when you are talking about your personal life that is not there when you talk about abstract ideas.
“If you talk abstract ideas, people figure you out based on what you believe in and how you deliver that. But you’re not talking about friends, family or maybe personal experiences that maybe you’re ashamed of or embarrassed by. It serves as a shield, and it took me years to realize that is what I was doing.”
As online discourse continues to devolve, its easy to lose hope that the bell can be un-rung and that insanity may forever hold sway in how we discuss serious issues facing our future. However, if Kondabolu’s hypothesis proves correct, the secret to finding common ground may not be in the bombastic and the click-driven, but instead in the personal and grounded.
“People are multi-dimensional. I feel like you do the audience and yourself a disservice when you don’t make yourself multi-dimensional. When the audience feels like they like you, like they know you, when you give them the stuff with the weight, it digests better. It’s like the difference between a random person sharing their personal beliefs, verses a friend. When it is a friend, I like this person, and now he’s telling me this thing. It makes me more likely to listen. I feel like that’s how I’ve been approaching it. Having these conversations, it definitely opens you up.”
Hari Kondabolu’s performance is scheduled for 7:30 p.m. on Friday, May 30 and 7 p.m. and 9:15 p.m. on Saturday, May 31 at Punchline Houston, 1204 Caroline. For more information, visit punchlinehtx.com. $32-45
